Uneasy Hearts Weigh the Most
by bofOld
Summary: Mourning over the loss of Tanya, Edward's depression worsens. Jake's in jail & Bella's family slowly falls apart. How is Aro involved? AH, Canon pairings, M for potentially dark themes.
1. Cigarette Embers EPOV

**A/N: I've been working on this one for a while with the planning process and all. I have what I want for this story all written down in an idea form, but it's just the matter of writing it! This is a hard thing for me to write as it is in third person, present tense. If you catch any mistakes do not hesitate to tell me. I'm also open to suggestions on this! **

"And back to these cold, shitty nights in Portland,"- Jonny Craig, Children of Divorce

Edward-

He sits back and watches the birds pass by through the window at dusk. His chair, wooden and worn, squeaks at the pressure he puts on it. His cigarette is burning, wasting, as the time passes. The V formation of the geese finally leaves from his line of vision. With nothing to watch as his smoke turns to ash, he gets back up off of the chair and leans against the widow. It's open, letting the night's wind blow the curtain inwards. He lets the smoke ventilate out of his apartment; he lets himself loose more of her. He breathes in the outdoors, welcoming a new scent rather than her hand-rolled smokes that he'd been sucking down all day. Even then, the smoke is still there, an overwhelming scent that makes it impossible to get pure air.

Nothing is pure anymore.

From the third floor of his apartment, he watches the cars pass by. Another distraction, like the birds. Except this distraction doesn't leave him; Portland's traffic is constant, never ending. It's the only thing that withholds continuity in Edward Masen's life.

She loved the Spring, she loved the traffic that came with it. She liked watching the college kids walk the streets at midnight, going from one dive bar to another. She liked the smoke that rose from three stories below.

Everything reminds him of her, of Tanya. In their flat, the grocery store. The apartment is only _his _now, not _theirs_. He can see that from her boxes that line the yellowed walls, stacked on top of each other. The movers were supposed to be there an hour ago to keep them safely hidden in storage. The night move was cheaper than the day's. His first month was free.

The first week after her death, he decided that Tanya's belongings would only make his grief worse. The close reminders of her sickens him; the feeling sinks to his stomach, lurching it. He is going to be sick just by thinking about her broken body.

He sets the remaining bit of his cigarette on the window sill and runs to the bathroom. His toilet is just as sick as he. The yellowness of the toilet makes him gag more until his lunch sprouts up from his throat. He wipes his mouth and breathes in the scent of vomit and smoke.

_Smoke_.

Not just Tanya's last rolled cigarettes, but the smell of drywall being licked by flames. The smell of cardboard boxes turning into ash so much like his cigarettes. He then gets a whiff of the gasoline and the rancidness that comes with it.

He covers his mouth with a wet towel from his hamper and takes a step into the billowing fire. The bathroom's door is already charred he notices. Fire spread too quick for it to be natural. All it needed was a spark. This realization made him move faster. He maneuvers to the front door speedily, trying not to inhale the smoke. That door is charred, too. The fire has already consumed half of his small apartment and is making its way to his bedroom.

The touch of the doorknob is hot and burns his hand. He takes the risk of breathing in smoke and uses his towel as a shield to open the door. It still seers his skin, inflaming it. He manages opening it and then fall into the hallway. He wants to scream, to call for help. He wants someone to go back in there for him and grab her things. Anything. But he can't- his eyes are irritated, head is pounding. He coughs and the act seethes his throat. He's drained of all energy, his hand is throbbing from the burn.

The smoke is now seeping from the door, carrying itself down the hall. He waits to see red light flicker in the distance, then a loud ringing that usually trails behind it, but it doesn't sound. He hears pounding on the door, then the creaks of them opening. And yelling, calling for lovers, family to leave their home.

"Edward!" his name is called by a familiar voice. He wants to respond, to say _something, _but all that comes out is a soft moan. He hears footsteps getting closer, and then feels a rough hand on his arm.

He is being dragged down the hallway by the man who he identifies as Jasper. Jasper, his newest neighbor. Jasper who's going to be pissed that he is burning down the building.

They have reached the stairs crowded with lost tenants. Jasper pulls Edward to his feet and rushes everyone outside to the ground level. Jasper's firefighting skills work, they are all safe out in the cold, breezy weather. The blaring sirens don't help his headache; the tears that fall from his neighbors don't help his guilt. He's thankful for the person who called the Fire Department since his phone is right by that blackened window sill, melting in the flames. Another mistake, another thing to face.

He hates this. He hates himself, he hates that he lost Tanya to his own stupidity. He hates that he's lost everything now, that the left the door unlocked to vomit. That someone came inside the apartment and violated his depressing sanctuary with gaseous fumes.

Was that person here now? Was this some kind of sick revenge or a pleasant repetition of Tanya's death? He looks around, staring intently into each victim's eyes. He eyes set on a pair of deep brown eyes. The face that matches them is in horror. Her home has been destroyed because of him, why would it _not_ be in horror?

The ambulance has pulled onto the curb. The EMT yells out, asking if anyone is hurt. There are heads that shake, some who moan. A hand goes up, but it isn't his. He's standing there, bathing in his own misery.

Her voice rings out, calling the EMT over to her by his first name. She points at Edward, pulling the worker as she walks towards him. He recognizes the man's face. He has seen him many times before now; that was when he volunteered with his stepfather before he discovered the addiction.

"Billy," she says, voice like crystal in this chaos. "is Charlie coming?"

"No. Sorry, Bella. There was a call before we left; the department must have sent him off." She nods and Billy turns his attention on treating Edward. "Mr. Cullen, can you tell me what's wrong with you today?"

He is professional, too professional. Edward wants more than anything to throw him off, for him to stop treating him with respect. He's done a horrible thing and all they can do is ignore it!

"Masen." he corrects with a raspy throat. The pain comes again and he throws his stinging hand to his neck, looking for relief. He drops it in disappointment and in pain; Edward's hand hurts more from moving it.

The medic tenderly touches his hand and declares it to be a second degree burn. He guides Edward to the back of an ambulance, the brown-eyed girl trailing along. She stops at the entrance, wondering if it would be okay to go inside. These spring nights are cool from this morning's rain and she didn't grab her jacket when fleeing, he notices. She looks up at him, asking without speaking. Edwards sits up onto the small bed inside the vehicle and says that it's fine for her to come in.

He watches her stumble her way over to the gray, uncomfortable looking passenger's bench. Her cheeks turn to fire when she makes a loud noise by hitting her elbow on the wall. Carlisle's ex-medical partner is washing his hands over the sink, chuckling at her clumsiness.

He studies her face, it's contorting while in deep thought. She's lost in her own world.


	2. Gas Fumes Demetri POV

Demetri-

_ Jesus fucking Christ, this is disgusting. _Demetri takes in the grody apartments as he looks up to the third story. This side of Portland is not honored by the tourism community, he can tell. The streets are full of stumbling college kids, lone homeless people sitting on the sidewalks. They're too goddamn lazy even to stand and beg. No one turns a blind eye at his shady self walking down the street with a few gallons of gas in hand.

Nice neighborhood.

He reaches the front entrance to the complex. No doorman, of course. Not even a simple machine to get buzzed up by. He assumes that the technology was stolen for the copper wiring. There might have never been one in the first place. The machine is unnecessary to him anyway. A little breaking and entering is nothing compared to his previous crimes. So he opens the door to reveal a bleak hallway, barely big enough to get through although he has a tiny structuring. He has to hold up the red gas can to squeeze his way in.

The first and second staircases that take him up to the third story apartment are much easier

to use than the first hallway. He checks his wristwatch; it's around nine thirty. He's a little late and thank-fucking-God for that. Aro'd have his ass if he was a second early. If he was too early, some resident inside the apartments might be out, straying in the hall. Getting ready to go out and freely enjoy their lives, something he could never do. And shit, if he was too late, what would be the problem? Everyone would be asleep, they'd all suffocate in the smoke. Demetri sees nothing wrong with that other than it would go against the plan.

During a meeting the night before, he was told to go in and get out quickly. Aro clearly instructed that and he was to follow orders. He wasn't there to kill, just to teach a lesson. Burn the kid's home down. For what reason, he's not sure. But what the hell? Why not? It's not like he has anything else to do on a Saturday night.

Edward Masen's apartment is the fourth door down on the left. He poses to knock on the door, but dismisses the action. Straight and fast is how he's going to do this. No trickery, no pushing the resident out so he can do his job in peace. This kid is smart, Aro said. He'll catch on to the the fact that his house is burning down swiftly. He's probably in the bathroom, doing illicit things to himself. Jesus Christ, is it crazy that Demetri is jealous? That he has no time to be alone with his left and right hands?

He attempts to open the door. Unlocked. What an idiot. Who would be so stupid to keep their door unlocked in this shit neighborhood? He pushes this door open, praying to Whoever that Masen wasn't in the room. He wasn't, but the kid left a burning cigarette on the window sill. He'd be back soon.

The burning cigarette is actually pretty convenient. Demetri could slip out easily, letting the flames take their own course. He slickly walks over and grabs the cigarette like he's done this a thousand times. He takes a drag (funky stuff Masen's smoking) while he pours the gas on the dusty floors. It _glugs_ out, spreading into the cracks of the hardwood. He's done here. The gas can gets set down as he walks back to the door. The cigarette is thrown behind his shoulder and is engulfed by flames.

He misses Masen by seconds. The gurgling flush of the toilet is a background noise to the closing of the front door.

**A/N: I'll get to Bella's POV soon enough. I'm having trouble with writing her side of this story. Aro's chapter will probably be up on the the next update. **


	3. Planning Ahead Aro POV

**A/N: Very short chapter again. These bits like are pieces of a puzzle. **

Aro-

Edward Masen had taken Aro's most prized girl from him. She'd defied him, ran away to be with the bronze heartthrob. She ran to hide, hide from the drugged empire he built. It was all open for her, all there to take. All there so they can prosper together. But she chose _him_. She stole before she left and doesn't go down too well with him either. Tanya's three kilos of coke didn't let Aro loose much, but the act was a brutal blow to his reputation. Estranged exes fucking with business is never a good thing.

After all her gave to her, he expected her devotion in return. Take thousands of dollars, go ahead. Don't take his heart, for God's sake.

He sits up from his desk and straightens out his suit. "We're all done here?" he asks his companions.

"Yessir," Demetri's sniveling voice is abrupt. Always trying to please.

"Here's her workplace's address. I expect this to be quiet." Aro nods at the duo. Felix's bulk doesn't faze him. He's a follower not like Aro, the leader. He'd just about agree to any order, the only exception is children. The whore isn't a child. She's a thieving adult, adult enough to degrade herself by working at a rundown strip club.

The two men get up and the door is opened for Aro. He leaves without looking back. He passes through the waiting room at in his firm. Gianna, the ditzy redhead gives him a glance and bows her head out of shyness, possibly fear. "Come," he tells her. She gets up, tripping over her own feet and follows the tall, dark-headed man to the back.

Gianna is the perfect victim. She's small, needy. Just like Tanya when he took her in. Almost exactly like Tanya. The same hair, body type. It's uncanny. She's also the perfect hook with those similarities. Gianna will be strong, he thinks. He attitude resembles _her's_.

This will help her grow as a dealer as well. His way of training will work, just as it worked so well with Heidi. Now she's a perfect example of the ideal dealer. Secretive and sly, she is. Tanya left strong, a success like Heidi. But she left, that was the problem. How could she lure without being here to do the job? How can she please him when absent?

He grabs her hand and pulls her into the filing room. The lights turn on automatically by some sensor Alec invested in. Her breathing is rapid. She's scared, he can feel it. He draws in the fear from her, building up his own strength. She's pressed between a filing cabinet and his body. He can feel her silk blouse but can't see it. They are talking with their eyes.

He's the first to speak up. "Why are you so scared, baby?" He likes talking to her innocently when it's known that, taking from last night, she is not innocent. Not at all. It was just a fling to test her out. It worked out well. She'll definitely fuck with his head.

"I'm not." She gains confidence and jerks her chin up.

"Good. Then do as I say."


End file.
